


A cure for a broken soul

by astracrits



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Death, the rest of the class is dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:21:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29843487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astracrits/pseuds/astracrits
Summary: Sylvain wakes up in the Tailtean plains, moments before Dimitri is about to be executed by Edelgard. In the spur of the moment, he finds strength to run towards him and try to save him. Will the two of them survive the harships that come with the sacrifices they made? Will they find the strength to continue on?
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	1. The day we lost everything

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the Dimivain Big Bang on Twitter! I hope you all like this whole thing :D If you wish to follow me, my @ is @astra_crits . My partner for this fun project, and who did the pictures accompanying the fic is the amazing @rinoarubia !!!

Sylvain woke up gasping.

The droplets of rain fell on his wet face. Some of them were warm, while others were cold. He couldn’t hear anything, not even the rain all around. The difference in temperatures was terrifying to say the least.

He knew it was blood.

Sylvain sat up quickly, pain shot through his entire body, sending shocks of electricity that travelled all over him, then focused on his midsection. He lowered his sight, part of his armor had been penetrated by a weapon, and blood was gushing out of the wound. He placed his hand over it, drawing a sharp breath afterwards due to the burning sensation of his dirty gauntlets touching his fresh wound.

Dead people were right in front of him, all of them Faerghus soldiers. There were just a few of the empire’s fighters lying there, but it was clear that it was a total defeat for the former Blue Lion.

His eyes scanned the area. There was no one alive around, absolutely nobody. Sylvain’s eyes started tearing up quickly, how did things go so wrong? All of his friends were dead, was he the only one left alive in those fields?

In that moment, his ears picked up a sound other than that of the rain. It was a woman, the voice of the woman who had taken everything from them.

Edelgard.

Sylvain turned around to where the sound came from. She was standing right in front of someone, her small frame was covering them, but it was clear she was about to execute that person. Her arm was readying the weapon for the final blow, but that was what allowed him to see the person who was about to be executed.

Dimitri.

“No!” Sylvain’s voice was barely a whisper, but it held all the fear in the world. His king, his friend, a man so important to him was about to be killed. He could not allow that.

With strength that he didn’t know where he found, Sylvain got up on his feet and began limp-running towards the group. He wasn’t sure if he was going to make it, or if he would be able to save Dimitri from amidst all of the enemies,  _ but he had to try. _

As he began making his way towards Dimitri, his gaze fixed to the side, where a couple of pegasus riders were lying. Sylvain felt his heart break one more time when he saw the person that was right in the middle of it.

Mercedes.

_ Oh god, is there anybody alive? _ was a question that formulated over and over in his head, though he already knew the answer to that.

He heard the news from the spies and the scouts and everybody, he lived through them as the army was being defeated over and over - to the point where the four of them were the only ones left. Everybody who didn’t side with the professor and Edelgard was dead, the Blue Lions, the Golden Deer, even those that left the Black Eagles class to join him. Everybody perished thanks to the Empire.

And now… only the two of them were left.

There were some classmates of the Blue Lions that survived, but they were people that transferred classes and went with the Empire. Sylvain couldn’t ever think of them as his enemies, he had spent so much time with them, he came to know them, to simply cast aside his memories of them would be unforgivable.

But he had to fight, and he had to survive. And because of that, he… he had to… Felix… 

Time was of the essence now, if he could save a single one of his friends, he would do so, even if it costed him his life—Sylvain didn’t think he would last long either, the wound Felix inflicted on him was a nasty one, and he doubted he would find a healer soon.

The redhead grabbed a spear that was lying on the ground, he used it to take out a soldier that was near him. No one could stop him from getting Dimitri, even if it was the last thing he would do. He didn’t care who it was that he had killed just now, but he was sure it was someone he knew, they had distinctive clothing, clearly different than the ones the generic Empire soldiers had.

Whoever that was, they would meet Sylvain in hell.

The path was clear now, no one was near enough to be able to stop him now. “Don’t!” he screamed, Sylvain could feel the blood pooling in his mouth. He had very little time now.

Everybody but Edelgard turned to see him with shocked expressions. No one could believe that there was anybody alive, and to see Sylvain there was… both impressive and bad. The empire army needed to dispose of everybody.

Edelgard didn’t turn, and Sylvain knew that it was because she couldn’t hear him. That was his chance. He could save Dimitri!

At that very moment, Sylvain’s mind started flooding with countless thoughts.

_ Seems we’re about to kill each other. _

_ Sorry, Sylvain. You’ll die first. _

_ I swear I will fight by your side until the very end, Dimitri. _

_ I appreciate that, my friend. _

_ A small clearing where you could watch the sunset, as much peace as one could desire. There was no war, no Empire conquering everything where they went. It was only him, free to be himself and be nothing at the same time. There was no need for him to uphold someone’s vision of him, or to be the strong person that old group of four friends needed. _

_ Voices all around him distorted, those were sounds he did not want to hear. Those were… the dying screams of his friends, of his comrades, of everybody. _

_ And then there was that one man, the man that was the most important in his life. _

Sylvain ran, no one would be able to catch him, but he wasn’t sure he would reach those two before the arm dropped. He started crying, everything hurt so bad, it was hard to breathe and his vision was becoming blurry—either that, or his eyes were closing as he moved.

It was time.

With a decisive, final act, Sylvain launched himself right in front of Dimitri. Time slowed down as everything unfolded: Dimitri’s face showed extreme shock at seeing his friend still alive, Sylvain’s right arm raised to block the hit for the king, while his left arm pushed him out of the way, Edelgard’s arm dropped with quickness.

And then there was the cold material of the blade that cut him.

Followed afterwards was a scream that made the birds around the trees fly away. There was no time to lose. Sylvain pushed Edelgard and turned around quickly, taking Dimitri’s hand and running away with him.

Dimitri was still in shock. He couldn’t believe what happened, even if it happened right in front of him. He was watching Sylvain in that horrible state dragging him away. It was a big difference to see the two of them together. Dimitri barely had any scratches, barely any wounds, then there was the man leading him away. He didn’t look like he should be alive. He looked so destroyed that there was no way he was alive.

Perhaps Dimitri had already been killed, and this was a ghost that was there to do its duty, take him to hell.

He didn’t know, nothing was making sense. The forest was so silent, but there were loud, thunderous sounds that came from behind him. Dimitri didn’t dare look back, or else, he feared he might be lost forever.

When he looked at that head full of red hair, he felt strangely calm, he was able to find a peace he didn’t know he could as he looked at each strand of slick hair made wet by the rain and the blood.

It was only and only when Sylvain grunted that Dimitri regained some of his focus. The two of them were running away from the Empire’s soldiers, the thunderous sounds of the cavalry and infantry were behind, but they could still be heard. They would be found very quickly.

Dimitri pulled Sylvain then, making him come to a stop and carefully taking him behind some rocks near the bushes. His instincts were kicking back in, and without a weapon and an injured person, he couldn’t do anything other than hide and hope the enemies would pass them by.

He had to place a hand over Sylvain’s mouth to muffle his sounds of pain. It hurt him so much as well, but he had to do it so they wouldn’t be found.

“It’s just for a moment,” he whispered to his friend. He couldn’t even watch him. He looked so bad, and when the sounds didn’t stop, Dimitri thought the worst. Countless battles taught him anything, and even if you weren’t a fighter, it didn’t take a trained eye to see that Sylvain was dying.

Dimitri hated himself for that. How could things go so wrong?

Various soldiers were close by now, the clinking sounds of their metallic boots and their weapons moving the bushes were so distinguished that Dimitri’s heart started pounding. He couldn’t die there, not while his friend was so destroyed.

Sylvain couldn’t stay still, he was hurting everywhere and he was still crying from the pain. It was weird, but something about the whole thing was funny to him. He’d been so careful all these five years, he made sure he would hold out until the end, he knew it in his heart that he would liberate Fódlan from the Empire’s clutches, he promised himself that he would live until the end of his days with all his friends.

And right now… he’d watch his friends die, he’d watch former comrades die mercilessly, he watched the entire Faerghus army perish to the professor and Edelgard. He lost an arm to save Dimitri as well, and now, he was about to die from his wounds.

Sylvain had to chuckle, the whole situation was so ironic. He winced immediately afterwards, his entire body hurted, especially his right side, where his arm was now gone. He looked at the mess, but what was there to see? It was chopped off and blood was gushing out of it like a river. It would be minutes before he was truly gone.

He tried craning his head to look at Dimitri, giving him some sort of signal to tell him they needed to hurry. He didn’t want to die, not while lost in the woods.

Truth be told, Sylvain always imagined himself growing old, having lots of kids and dying of old age, in his bed, while he was sleeping. He knew that the life of a soldier was to eventually die in the battlefield, but now that he was about to suffer from that fate… he didn’t want it. He wanted to survive and live to see another day and experience and see multiple things.

_ Heh… but what good would that be if every single one of my friends is dead? _

He was starting to close his eyes. It was so hard keeping them open. But Dimitri slapped him, he jerked his head side to side. “Don’t go to sleep, Sylvain, please!” His voice was just a murmur, hard to hear thanks to the sounds of the rain and the soldiers hunting for them.

One of the soldiers screamed, he was very close to the two men. “How did they disappear so fast? One of them was heavily injured!”

Another one replied, “Keep looking? They couldn’t have gone far like that.”

It was true, they didn’t go too far, and they wouldn’t if they didn’t find help soon.

Dimitri looked around, trying to find something that could be used as a tourniquet or a bandage or whatever, anything that could serve to help Sylvain. His head turned everywhere, his eyes scanned every single thing but it was no use, out in the darkness of the forest, nothing could be seen. The bushes, leaves or the mud weren’t exactly helpful things to treat a wound.

His mind was racing, and he was still thinking about going into battle, but he wouldn’t be able to do anything right at that moment. “Please, don’t say anything, hold on a little longer,” he said to Sylvain as he moved his hand from his mouth.

There were little grunts coming from him, but he listened to him, he was trying not to make too much noise. Dimitri acted quickly, ripping pieces of his cape with ease, but also with care not to make a lot of noise so they wouldn’t be discovered. He tied the smaller apart just on his bicep to make the tourniquet, that’s when Sylvain started moaning in pain. Dimitri didn’t know if he should shut his mouth or continue. They could be discovered any second now, or the soldiers could be far from their position, he couldn’t judge. He decided to do the latter, taking the bigger piece of cloth and carefully putting it around to contain the blood and cover the wound.

_ Goddess… Sylvain, I’m so sorry this happened to you. _

It was done in a few moments, after which Dimitri covered Sylvain’s mouth yet again. Luck seemed to be on their side, as after a few minutes, a guard spoke near them. “Leave them, Lady Edelgard has called everybody back, we’re leaving this place. They’re going to die out there anyway.”

Dimitri’s brows furrowed, but at least his heart wasn’t beating that fast anymore. He let his head hang back and rest over a rock, releasing a silent breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

It must have been a couple of minutes after the soldiers left the woods, they needed to be sure that they really left and didn’t stay there to bluff, but Sylvain was breathing heavily now, and he was sweating cold. He wiggled a little under Dimitri’s grasp. The pain he was feeling was so indescribable that all he wanted to do was lay down on the ground and be done with everything.

But he was being helped up by the king, and before he knew it, they were heading further into the woods, though this time, they were walking quietly. The sounds of their clanking boots echoed silently with the sound of the unstopping rain. After being chased by the soldiers and losing a battle so big as that, the two of them being the only ones alive felt so surreal. Neither of them believed that they should have been alive, but there they were.

Sylvain had to chuckle despite the pain. Small droplets of blood sprayed onto the ground as he walked. He tried looking ahead and only ahead, thinking of all his friends, of the battle, of the utter defeat… it was destroying him, and he was already too much of a burden to Dimitri to slow him further by taking a moment to grieve for his friends.

It hurt him as well, no one should die without a proper burial, be it an enemy or a friend, but what could you do when you had no chance to do any of that? Sylvain knew that it would be foolish to go back, to give a place of rest to Mercedes and Felix and all the other soldiers. He felt like it was the least he could do—specially for his friends, but as he walked through the forest, the bushes and sticks hitting his face, and his wounds making him feel like he would collapse in a second, there was nothing to do but continue moving forward.

Dimitri didn’t say a word, it was as if he was lost in his thoughts, but at least he was helping Sylvain. The redhead tried looking at his friend, but all of his strength was almost gone, and every little bit was better used in walking.

The clearing appeared to distort in some sort of way, paths seemed to open up into countless roads, but they also closed down with a lot of stumps and thick bushes that were making the two of them feel very lost.

Sylvain had already lost hope, but Dimitri was still alive and well, and he desperately wanted to find a place to rest. “At least we didn’t run into more of the empire’s soldiers,” he said, trying to relieve the tension that could be felt between the two.

It was stupid how wounded Sylvain was, and how well Dimitri was. “...heh.” Came another chuckle from Sylvain. The king ignored that one as well. He didn’t know what to respond or how to react to the whole situation.

He would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t willing to run back to the battlefield and fight them all once again. He didn’t care that he would fight them all, he was confident that he could make it.

But as he looked at his friend, barely hanging onto life, Dimitri made a worried face. “I will not let you fall today, Sylvain,” he commented with a sad tone. He hated himself for thinking like that, that some part of himself wanted to go back to fight, not understanding that his friend saved him from death.

Dimitri didn’t know how he did it, but suddenly, the two of them were in another part of the woods that didn’t look as thick. There were a couple trees that surrounded a visible road, but that wasn’t what was important.

There was a small cabin hiding behind some rocks and a couple small trees. “There.” Dimitri didn’t waste any time going there, there weren’t any lanterns or candles lit, he could see, so that meant that the two of them could hide for a while. Then, he heard the sounds of a carriage and a horse coming closer. “Please, let it be a traveller.” A traveller that could have some vulneraries or herbs with them that could help Sylvain.

“Ungh…” Sylvain moaned as he was being propped against a tree. One of his eyes was closed by the swollenness now, and with his eyelids feeling heavy and the night sky not providing any light, he couldn’t see anything.

For a second, Sylvain thought that Dimitri had left him there, but when he heard, “Please, we need some help,” he felt somewhat at ease.

Dimitri approached the carriage, but his mere presence upset the horse. The driver had a hard time putting it at ease. “Woah! Calm down there, boy.” He stopped right next to Dimitri. “What can I help—” his words trailed off when he saw who it was. “Y-you’re the… king of Faerghus.”

Those words told Dimitri he might not get the help he desperately needed. “Yes, I am, and I need help for my friend, please! He got injured pretty badly.” He could easily see the staff that was perched on the priest’s back. “I can see you have a staff, please.”

Though the priest looked away from him. “I don’t know if I can… I’m from the empire, and you’re…”  _ the enemy _ . The word wasn’t said, but it was clear that that was what he was referring to.

“Please, please, you have to help us, my friend is dying!” He gestured at Sylvain, who by now was slumped over the ground, a pool of blood forming below him. “You are a priest, you have to help us!”

The healer looked at the man on the ground. He looked so devastated, and anybody could see that he didn’t have much time left. “By the goddess… those wounds.” He got off his horse and approached Sylvain, who couldn’t speak or even look at him. “Who did this to you?”

“Your emperor,” responded Dimitri. “She’s the one who did this to him.” That wasn’t a lie, Edelgard had a small skirmish with him before she slipped by to fight Dimitri. “Please…”

Yet the priest turned his sight away from Sylvain. “I am sorry for your friend, but—”

“I am begging you!” Dimitri went onto his knees. “I am begging you to save my friend. You’re a priest, you made a vow to the goddess to protect and heal those who needed it, and right now, my friend is dying.” He lowered his face as well. He was in no position to demand stuff but rather, he did the only thing he could do to save his friend. “Please… help Sylvain.”

There was a sight that came from the priest that made Dimitri stand upright. “Alright, I don’t do this for you, but because this is my duty. Help me carry him into your cabin.”

It wasn’t his, but there was no way Dimitri was going to tell him that right now. “Thank you. You have my deepest gratitude.”

He muttered a silent apology as he lifted Sylvain with ease. He tried to ignore the loud groans of pain as he approached the cabin. He kicked the door open with a powerful kick, then, he moved his friend onto the bed that was on the opposite wall.

Sylvain could not stop wincing in pain, but the priest needed to work, and fast. Dimitri stood to the side after lighting a lone candle, he saw the man take his staff and begin casting his healing magic. A small, bright light emanated from him, it channeled into the staff and then softly coated Sylvain, passing the light onto his body. Dimitri never understood how magic worked, he’d seen Mercedes cast healing arts so many times and yet, he never once questioned how the fundamentals worked.

But even if he did, he doubted he would be able to cast healing magic. His soul was too dark to do something so pure.

“How is he?” It was a dumb question, but Dimitri hated feeling so useless at that moment.

“Be quiet, I have to concentrate,” said the priest. His eyes were closed, and thanks to the light, Dimitri could see the lines on his face, both from old age, and from the stress that came from concentrating so much.

The lights grew brighter, and when they moved onto Sylvain, they seemed to focus on specific points in his body: his right arm, his right temple, his abdomen, and his left leg.

Dimitri leaned against the wall. “Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked, he had to ask.

But the priest didn’t respond to him. He was still concentrating on the poor man lying on the bed. Sylvain was starting to calm down, Dimitri thought that perhaps that was an effect from the magic, but he also felt worried that maybe it wasn’t working and instead, he was dying.

He started pacing around the room. His boots echoed heavily on the small space of the cabin, and now that he was inside, the rain boomed all around him. It was making him uneasy.

He had to leave the cabin. He couldn’t see that scene any longer. At least the cold air of the night would comfort him for a moment.

Dimitri sat next to the rock where Sylvain was, the water had washed all his blood away by now and made a trail that ran quickly through the road and into a puddle a few meters away. The moon made a distorted reflection over it. It wouldn’t have meant anything to anybody, just countless ripples that were made due to the rain, but as Dimitri watched that broken reflection of the moon, he couldn’t think of the utter defeat that it symbolized. “Is there a way for me to defeat her and the professor?” he whispered to himself, putting an arm over his bent knee. “They must be attacking the capital right now, I don’t know if Lady Rhea is there to stop them.”

But who was he kidding? He couldn’t defeat the professor and Edelgard, not even with the help he got from Lady Rhea. The capital was gone, everything would be conquered by next morning, of that there was no doubt.

And yet, all he could think about at that moment… was Sylvain.

“I don’t want him to die. He can’t.” He closed his eyes for a moment. He wasn’t tired, but he wanted to be.

The priest came out after a long moment, when the screams had stopped. His head was hanging low, the shadows of the night covered his face, he looked overall grim.

That made Dimitri’s stomach drop. “What happened to Sylvain?” he asked, standing up quickly.

He received no response from the priest. Dimitri wanted to know if it was because Sylvain was now dead - leaving him completely alone, or if it was because of the enmity the healer felt towards them.

Whatever the case, Dimitri decided to pay no more regard to him. He ran towards the tiny cabin. By that moment, he was completely alert to what was happening. He acknowledged that he’d lost the fight, that he’d lost Mercedes, Ingrid, Dedue and everybody in his class, and Sylvain was about to die too.

He didn’t want that.

Kicking open the door, he squinted his eyes to see better in that darkness.

He was there, sitting on the bed. His slight grunts of pain were echoing inside the cabin. His form still looked as big as he was, even when slumped over. Dimitri walked closer, this time slowly. He couldn’t see quite well, and he didn’t know if Sylvain was on death’s door, or if he had been cured, and things were alright.

“S-Sylvain…” he finally said when he stood in front of him.

“It’s too dark,” replied the redhead. “I think I saw a lamp on the nightstand. Can you see if you can light it?”

At least his voice didn’t have the strain and tiredness it had before. “Sure!”

Dimitri scurried quickly to the nightstand. Indeed, there was a lamp there. The king turned it on without waiting a single moment. Soon, the lone cabin started lighting up, obtaining a faint yellow color that changed the whole atmosphere from a desolated, last-resort escape, to a place where maybe the two of them could stay while Sylvain recovered; a safe haven.

The king turned back to his friend. There were shadows in his face due to the lightning, that made him look more grim than before. There were signs of a slight smile trying to come out, but the twitching in Sylvain’s face was making it look more like a facial tick than anything else.

Still, Dimitri tried not commenting on anything he saw. Not on the somber look he had overall, not on the caked blood all over him… not on the stub, where his right arm was supposed to be.

He had to stifle a gasp. Sylvain looked so rough.

But he was still able to fight, right?

“How are you holding up, Sylvain?” Dimitri looked at a small box on the side, visible now thanks to the lamp.

Sylvain took some moments to reply, everything still hurt, but at least he knew that he was not going to bleed to death anymore. “Hah… bad, but I’ve been worse.” He tried chuckling, but his abdomen had taken the worst of it, so it was really hard to even breathe normally. “And you?” The hardest was when he tried to sit up. He didn’t even know how he did it without passing out.

“I’m fine,” he replied with a smile.

Sylvain’s own smile changed into a tight line. “You sure look like it,” he said, looking the other way in disgust. “What are we going to do now?”

Dimitri didn’t want to risk anything yet, but he wanted to go back and fight Edelgard. The thought of ending this once and for all was still etched into his mind, and he had not given up yet. He’d just been caught in a tight spot.

It had to take him a few minutes to reply, when would be the perfect moment to tell Sylvain he wanted to look for any soldiers that could join the resistance? “For now, you have to rest.” He smiled again, even though his friend wasn’t seeing it. “And…”

Dimitri reached to the side, there was a rag and a bowl of water, along with vulneraries and other first-aid supplies.  _ The monk _ , thought Dimitri. He muttered a silent thank you as he pulled them closer to where they were.

He started by turning Sylvain’s face towards his. He began patting his forehead, cleaning the strands of hair that were plastered due to sweat and blood, as well as the dried mud. “Dimitri, I…” began Sylvain.

“Shh, it’s okay, don’t say anything.” After he was done cleaning his friend’s face, he stood up. “I’m gonna help you remove your armor, alright?”

His hands reached for the knots that held Sylvain’s armor together, undoing them with a bit of clumsiness. He’d never been so close to him before, less when trying to undo his armor. The plating was heavily damaged, and it was almost all colored in red due to the blood loss, there were a lot of nicks and even a piece missing from his abdomen wound. Nevertheless, Dimitri didn’t care about any of that, he just wanted Sylvain to be alright and to heal well.

He removed the armor. That once-perfect skin the redhead had and was so proud of had a few scars now. All of them had caked blood too, but at least the healer had done his job, they were all just small lines now.

Dimitri started cleaning Sylvain’s chest with the utmost care, now that his initial shyness had gone away. There wasn’t anything wrong with cleaning a wounded soldier, was it?

Though for Sylvain, it was a different story. After Dimitri let go of him to clean his chest, he averted his gaze to the side. It was a little embarrassing to be in that situation. He had no arm, he was dirty and bloody, and now, he couldn’t even clean himself.

He didn’t stress yet, or felt any sort of panic, but that was because his situation hadn’t hit him yet. Yes, he could see that he was now missing an arm, but nothing was more important than seeing Dimitri alive, right in front of him. It was the same for the king of Faerghus.

But for both, one thing was true and the same, they were glad the other was alive.

After a short, silent while, Sylvain decided that he should put some bandages over his body to cover the smaller wounds, he didn’t want to be that useless. He looked to Dimitri’s side, where he’d put the bandages and the vulneraries, and he lowered to grab one.

But when he began putting them around his abdomen, when he rolled them and couldn’t grab them because he was missing an arm, that’s when everything hit him.

The utter defeat at the Tailtean plains, where Edelgard completely decimated the Fhirdriad army.

The loss of each and every one of his friends, even watching how some of them were killed by the Empire.

His reckless move to save Dimitri, which had now cost him his arm. He felt cuts and bruises all over him, too.

Sylvain yelled in pain, in frustration, in sadness…

His free arm began thrashing wildly, pushing and hitting Dimitri, the bed, and the wall behind him. Why was he alive? Why should he be the one to stay alive when none of his friends were? Why did this have to happen to him? He was broken beyond relief, and he was aware of it all now. Sylvain had lost any hope, even when by some divine power, he’d been given a second chance at life.

The worst was when he looked at the man sitting on the floor, Dimitri, the man that Sylvain loved.

He barely had any scratches in his body, in his face, he still looked as handsome as he always had, while Sylvain was sure that he looked like a monster now. Why wasn’t Dimitri the one to receive so many wounds? Why was he the one who didn’t witness most of his friends dying? Sure, the loss was both’s, but Sylvain was suffering through a kind of anguish that no one else could feel.

It was all too much.

Dimitri could only look at his friend, but he couldn’t pretend to know the reason why, perhaps the loss of the battle had gotten to his head now, and he was reacting worse than normal. What kind of normality was accepted when you lost so much, though? How can someone decide the kind of pain another should suffer? It didn’t matter that both were part of the same army, that both were in that same battle that was lost. Sylvain’s pain and Dimitri’s pain were completely different.

And he couldn’t even guess what Sylain was feeling at the moment.

The two of them continued having their different reactions for long moments, but thankfully it didn’t become worse. Dimitri stayed sitting on the cabin’s floor, watching until his friend felt like it was all enough.

After what he felt were hours, Dimitri crawled back towards the bed, he grabbed the bandages that were strewn all over the place, and he began wrapping them around Sylvain’s wounds. “I know I have no right, but… I’m glad you’re here, Sylvain.” He couldn’t look at him in the eyes for some reason.

Sylvain, on the other hand, didn’t hear him at all, he wasn’t looking at him either. He was looking absent-mindedly at a dark spot in the corner of the cabin, all while tears streamed through his face.

But Dimitri was not going to feel sad for his friend. He knew more than anyone else, Sylvain didn’t like to be pitied, and he wouldn’t be the one to do it for the first time. He wouldn’t betray his friend in that way.

He continued wrapping the bandages, when he was done with his abdomen, he moved to his arm. The piece of his cape he’d torn to cover his worst wound was now a full dark-crimson color that complimented the dark of the cape. The priest didn’t remove the makeshift tourniquet, so now Dimitri didn’t know if he should remove it himself, or leave it there.

“Take it off, put some bandages over it.” Sylvain’s somber voice was but a whisper in the night, in the low echo of the flame burning in the candle.

Dimitri wrapped it there initially, yes, but now he was doubtful of himself. “Umm… alright, please, don’t move.”

His gentle hands undid the tight knot of the fabric, letting it fall to the ground in a wet thud. With a somewhat disgusted look, he pushed it to the side, hopefully it would go away by some art of magic.

Taking another roll of bandages, Dimitri stared at Sylvain’s elbow. Gods, magic was amazing, but it was also brutal. The wound hadn’t closed completely due to its severity, but at least it won’t kill him from the blood loss or get infected that quickly. The king started his work around it, taking care not to hurt him anymore, and to make sure it was covered fully.

When he was finished, he went onto his knee, his hand grabbing at Sylvain’s elbow, just above where the axe had cut him, and where the tight bandages ended. There were already some spots of red. “I will have to change them tomorrow… or even in a few hours,” he said, Dimitri was trying his best to work up a smile. His lips twitched a little, but then they eased into a small upwards curve. “Sylvain, I…” what even was there to say?

The redhead was not talking to him yet. Who knew if he was even conscious of what was happening? His gaze was still fixed towards the corner and nowhere at the same time, so nothing could be said or done that could give Dimitri and indication of whether Sylvain was hearing him or not.

Regardless, he had to try. “Don’t be discouraged.” Those were bad words, considering how his friend had reacted a few moments ago, but there was nothing else in his mind that could be said. “We’ll get through this.”

But those were the exact words that Sylvain needed to hear. He may not be listening, but he was hearing Dimitri’s words. He may have been beyond angry at his friend, but he was glad he was there with him. He may be broken, but… Sylvain was sure that maybe, just maybe… he could be alright.


	2. Little by little, I won't let you go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of them is dying and the other can't realize it. All that's on Dimitri's brain are thoughts of Fhirdiad and all the news that are quickly spreading about the Empire's conquest. How will the two of them begin healing if both are so scattered?

The sun’s rays hit Dimitri right in his eyes, making him wake up abruptly. To think that the sun would come out as strongly as that after the events of yesterday… it was shocking, but at least… he was alive.

And so was Sylvain.

The blonde man sat up from his spot on the floor. “I figure you’d wake up soon.” Sylvain’s hoarse voice coming from the bed made him turn to him. “Did you sleep well?”

Dimitri looked at him. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his face was perpetually in a scowl that was so uncharacteristically of Sylvain. How could he have changed so much in so little time? “I did.” It was a blatant lie that was quickly given away by grunts coming from Dimitri’s mouth.

“I knew it,” surely, both could feel the acid in Sylvain’s words. “I told you that you could sleep in the bed with me, it’s big enough for the both of us.”

In truth, Dimitri didn’t want to sleep in the same bed as Sylvain for a couple of reasons: one, he was afraid that he would toss and turn and accidentally hit his wound. Two, Dimitri preferred that Sylvain rested peacefully in the bed, rather than be cramped up with another person in it. And three, Dimitri still felt bad about what had happened to his friend. Sharing a bed with his best friend since childhood was like an insult after Sylvain’s lashing out of yesterday, even if the king did not fully comprehend yet why he had acted like that.

“I was seriously considering it, but I was worried you might make a move on me,” said Dimitri. He jumped slightly in shock at his response, it came out reflexively, but then he thought that maybe talking as if things were normal would be a good option.

Though his very short moment of joy was cut short when Sylvain didn’t laugh, or chuckled, or even batted an eye at the jipe. “...”

The moment had grown so awkward. Dimitri hated it. Instead of trying to make another joke, he decided to move on. “How is your arm?” Taking care of the most important things first was certainly better than trying to remediate things with lame jokes.

He crawled closer to the bed, resting his elbows over the mattress to carefully grab Sylvain’s arm. The bandages were slightly red and wet, but at least it wasn’t as bad as it had been last night. “It’s better, I guess,” replied Sylvain. He was lying motionless on the bed, chest and abs bare, slightly cold as the sheets were only pulled up to his waist. “I guess we—you could’ve changed them last night, but I didn’t want to trouble—”

“No!” Dimitri interrupted him. “Please, Sylvain. Do not hesitate to ask me for anything you need.”

That was one of the multiple mistakes he made. The man on the bed furrowed his brows, turning on the bed afterwards, ending the conversation immediately. Dimitri didn’t say anything else, it clicked quickly that he’d hurt his feelings, it didn’t take too much to see it.

He looked to the side, picking up the bowl of water and the roll of bandages that hadn’t been used yet. He unwrapped the cloth from Sylvain’s arm. The wound was still heavily bruised, but it looked to be better now. Dimitri grabbed a small vulnerary, pouring the contents carefully over the wound to coat it, then he wrapped it once more with a clean bandage.

“We need food and more water. I’ll go get them.” He wasn’t expecting Sylvain to reply to him, or to volunteer to go with him, but still, he needed to mention it.

Dimitri stood up and picked his cape, tying it around his shoulders as he made his way to the wooden door. He didn’t tell Sylvain to put the lock because Dimitri knew that he wouldn’t do it, he just hoped nothing happened while he was away.

The king pushed open the door and walked out. The sun was shining brighter than he had ever seen before.

A chuckle escaped his lips. “Of course, the sun shines for Edelgard and the professor.”

It was making him rage so much, but it was that kind of rage where Dimitri could only stand still, body shaking and fists balled up.

He punched a nearby tree, making a deep hole on it. He wanted to rip that tree off and throw it wherever, he knew he had an unnatural amount of strength that would allow him to, but what good would that accomplish? His rage would only be sated for a short while and then he would be destroying more stuff.

But now, things were different. Dimitri learned things from that painful defeat, from that huge loss, from seeing Sylvain. He must not be hasty and rush again into battle when Fhirdiad was conquered by now. What was clear was that Dimitri needed to find a new army to fight for true freedom, to repel the Empire.

And Sylvain needed to be there with him too.

So that was what he would do, he would help him recover so that the two of them could fight back for their honor and for peace.

Yes, he would do that.

A smile crept up Dimitri’s lips. Even though things were so bad right now, there was still a light that could illuminate his way.

“But for now, I need to gather provisions. I just hope the owners of this cabin don’t come back, or that Sylvain can explain our situation.” There was a chance that the owner could be allied with the empire, but who knew? Dimitri only prayed that he could be back soon.

He didn’t even know where to start, the immediate area was only a small road and a lot of trees. Dimitri didn’t know about foraging or picking roots or mushrooms or even fishing—if there was a pond nearby. How was he going to get food for the both of them?

Dimitri shook his head, he’d just figured out something big in a short amount of time, he couldn’t lose hope immediately after because of his incompetence in the survivalist aspect. He needed to start with small steps, he knew how to kill, so he would be able to hunt an animal, even if it sounded somewhat cruel. He could find a lake where they could drink water too, all he needed to do was start walking.

And so, he picked whichever way seemed better for him, and moved his feet without thinking twice. As Dimitri thought of which foods he could gather, he was walking absent-mindedly through the forest. He tried not to think about it anymore, but as he was alone, his mind had no choice but to make him think about his homeland. The professor should have gone there as soon as they finished looking for them yesterday.

The more he thought about it, the more it seemed to be the truth, Fhirdiad had fallen. It would be just a matter of time for bards to sing of the Empire’s conquest, of others to tell of their tyranny, of people mentioning how the Emperor herself “unified” all of Fódlan.

Dimitri started shaking. Fódlan needed a change, every single one of the people in the Officer’s Academy of five years ago knew that, everybody wanted to change it, but would the Empire be the correct choice?

He’d come to know some of the students in the Black Eagles house, maybe one of them would have the power to make good decisions, to counsel Edelgard to a better path. However, at the same time, Dimitri couldn’t help but feel that all of them changed their ideals to meet Edelgard’s. He couldn’t know for sure.

It was all bringing him a headache. He’d already thought so much of that one thing and his situation. There was no need to inflict more and more pain on himself, even if he’d failed for the third time doing it.

“Just stop,” he said to himself.

When Dimitri came to it, he found himself in a site he didn’t think he would go back to, the Tailtean plains.

The horrible, painful scars of war were still there. It was a horrible stench that wouldn’t go away with the mild breeze in the fields. Dimitri tried ignoring everything else that was there—he couldn’t look at it, at them… nothing was good in that place.

As he turned his face, something caught his attention. His spear was stuck on the ground, it was a sign of his defeat, the weapon resembled a grave, but the person it was dedicated to wasn’t dead yet.

...that was something Edelgard didn’t know. Something in Dimitri’s heart told him so, he had to be right, he could get the drop on her.

Despite the stench of death, the grayish-red color in the ground and the heat in the plains, the lance being there felt more like a symbol of hope for the king. He walked immediately to grab it, feeling the power as soon as his hands touched the bone.

“Perhaps not everything is lost.” He didn’t care for a second that he might look demented talking to himself in a field full of dead bodies, none of that mattered anymore. “I’ve still got Sylvain, and now my spear. This has to be a sign. I will not falter.”

Food had left his mind completely by then, helping Sylvain was the very first thing he needed to do. It was a must if Dimitri wanted to go back and fight for true peace. However, to do that, he would have to work hard.

He turned around, running into a sprint and back into the forest once more, only that this time, he wasn’t lost. Dimitri knew the way he needed to take, which path to go through, which bush to push. He would return to the cabin with more hope than he ever had and he would share that with Sylvain.

Together, the two of them would save Fódlan.

Dimitri never moved as fast in his life, but he also never stopped as fast as he did when he arrived at the open space where the cabin was.

“Open this door, now!” It was a voice he didn’t expect to hear back at the battle and that hopefully wasn’t there. It was also a voice he never expected to hear right then.

“Ashe?!” exclaimed Dimitri. Chills ran down his spine, pooling on his stomach and almost making him sick.

The archer had defected to the Empire army one month before war began back when they were still students. No one could’ve seen that change, it was so sudden, and Ashe never gave any indication that he wanted to go with Edelgard and the professor. It was pretty bad when it happened, and it was worse when he suddenly appeared at Gronder Field for that battle.

And now, he was there, with a group of four soldiers, each and every one of them ready to bust the door open.

When did they discover them? “Dimitri, so it is true that you didn’t die in that battle.” Ashe’s face was a mixture of determination combined with anger and sadness. Was he feeling like that because he was ordered to get rid of them? Or was he trying to protect the two of them?

He never knew, and he could never ask him. “I didn’t… what are you doing here?” Instinctively, Dimitri gripped his lance tightly, though his posture didn’t change yet. He needed to gauge the situation first.

“You know what I came here to do.” There was no need for more words, Ashe was there for them, to eliminate them. “I should’ve gone back for that spear, but lady Edelgard told us to look directly for you.”

“Lady Edelgard, tch…” He couldn’t feel more pity for his former friend at that moment. “She doesn’t let you call her by her name only.” He shook his head, he was so disgusted that he still couldn’t understand why Ashe had changed so much. “And you know that you wouldn’t have been able to even touch Areadbhar.” Dimitri looked at his weapon, would that he were able to talk this out instead of letting it come to blows… just one more thing to feel angry about.

Ashe didn’t move yet, nor did he say anything. The two men were looking at each other, wondering how they drifted so much apart that it would come to this. “Sylvain is inside, isn’t he?” asked the white-haired man, his brows were dropping slowly to make a frown.

“You already know he is, but does your lady know?” Just mere moments now…

Ashe gripped his bow as tightly as Dimitri was with his spear. “As soon as we get rid of the two of you.”

The blonde man knew, he knew it in his heart that the man in front of him was not going to let them go, and he hated his situation so much.

“Ashe, I beg you. Please, let us go,” said Dimitri as he prepared a combat position.

But the other man assumed a battle stance as well. “I’m afraid I can’t—”

Then it was over. With a quick slash, and a silent apology that Dimitri would take with him to the grave, he killed his friend and the other soldiers.

Any other time he would’ve taken a knee, offered a prayer right there, but he didn’t. It was unexplainable, if it was either the anguish of having to clash against his former friend, or the fact that he didn’t think he would do it this way.

The door to the cabin unlocked, and it opened slowly as Sylvain peeked out. “Dimitri?” he called.

After the exchange of words between the enemies and the king there were no more sounds than the thud of the bodies falling, so it was understandable that the redhead would peek a look. If it ended with him being taken in by the enemy? It never passed through his mind.

The blonde man wiped the tip of his lance. “I’m fine.”

Sylvain recognized the head full of silver hair. “Is that…?” But he didn’t need to wait until Dimitri gave him an answer, he knew exactly what happened, what his friend had to do.

But at the moment, Sylvain was not in a right headspace, he couldn’t even take some time to process the information—or perhaps it did so quickly that the shock of assimilating something so traumatic was terrifying him much more. Whatever it was, it made him shut the door and lock it.

“Sylvain!” Dimitri knocked on the door. “Please, open up.”

There was no response, just as the king had expected. He would never say that this was a bad time for Sylvain to come out, as he was grateful that he’d gotten out of bed, but it was bad enough that he went outside to see what he’d done.

“Sylvain…” Dimitri said one more time. “Ashe was coming to kill us on behalf of Edelgard. I tried to reason with him, but he was not going to let us go.” He pressed his face onto the door, hoping that his friend was hearing him just behind it. “I’m sorry for that, but I was not about to let him kill you!”

And he hoped that Sylvain could at least acknowledge that, that his friends that joined the empire were no more, they were now their enemies and they would kill them without hesitating.

Thankfully, a response came quickly. “I… I know. I heard him talking about killing us here instead of doing a public execution in the Empire.” Sylvain’s voice was raspy, and it held all the sadness in the world. It was very unlike him.

The door opened once more, but Dimitri didn’t turn the knob, he waited until the other man came out on his own. “He came here on Edelgard’s orders.”

“Did he tell you that they conquered Fhirdiad too?” The cavalier opened the door. Even after that short rest he had, Sylvain still looked so tired, the circles under his eyes were more prominent if anything, and he was slouching a little, as if it was hard to stand upright. “I heard Ashe talking about it. Edelgard went there immediately after wiping us out. They killed Rhea too.”

It struck Dimitri, though not as much, as he already considered the possibility. “I had a feeling that might happen.” Strangely, he wasn’t feeling as anguished as he should have. Was it because of Sylvain?

Though that reaction was not exactly what his friend was hoping for. “And you’re accepting this?” His semblance changed so quickly to show anger. “You’re letting Fhirdiad fall just like that?!”

But Dimitri was not going to do anything harsh. He knew that all these changes were because of their own impotence. “I can’t do anything about it right now.”

“Why not?”

“We don’t have enough people, Sylvain, and I am not a one-man army.”

“But!”

And then, Dimitri said something he wished he didn’t… “And your arm—”

“My arm what?” That was when Sylvain stepped out of the cabin, the bandages had small splotches of red here and there, but thankfully nothing too bad. “What, Dimitri?”

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to mention—”

“That I can’t fight? Is that what you’re talking about?” He walked up to the king, snatching Areadbhar right from his hand. “I lost my spear hand, but that doesn’t mean I can’t defend myself.”

But that was the thing, you needed to use a spear with both hands because of the weight and the complexity of the weapon. It would be hard even for the strongest person in the world to fight with just one hand.

Regardless of that, Sylvain gripped the spear decisively, twirling it effortlessly a few times, though that action could be done by almost everybody and without any training. Afterwards, he tried doing a few thrusts and sure, he could still do that, but Dimitri doubted those attacks would barely do any damage.

It was when Sylvain tried doing a more complicated move, one that involved using both hands, that he failed and hurt himself. He moved the spear, trying to grab it with both hands, but he ended up hitting the stump that was his forearm.

The sound of the spear falling to the ground resonated with Sylvain’s screams of pain. The bandages in his arm went red quickly, and he doubled over, clutching himself and turning his back on Dimitri.

The king didn’t move, although he wanted to more than anything. He wanted to comfort his friend, offer the support that he desperately needed, but as he interacted more and more with Sylvain, Dimitri couldn’t help but feel like he was doing everything wrong, until things were at their worst.

It pained him, everything pained him, and yet… he needed to keep a straight face, a strong front. For himself, for Sylvain, things needed to fix themselves first before anything.

“Let me help you,” said Dimitri. It was enough of that, he wouldn’t let himself nor his friend continue like this.

But the redhead was still stubborn. “N-no, get away!”

Still, Dimitri wouldn’t have it. “No, enough, Sylvain!” His voice was decisive, just as his hands when he grabbed his friend. “I will not let you keep hurting yourself like this anymore.” It wasn’t just the spear hitting his forearm, it wasn’t the harsh words he yelled at Dimitri, it was everything.

The cavalier trashed in his grasp, trying to let himself free, but it was futile, each time Sylvain tried to get away, he would only feel Dimitri’s hold on him tighten, he could only feel himself be embraced more and more.

Until it was a hug. Rough at first, but that was needed for the current crisis. “I’m…” said Sylvain. He let his whole weight rest on Dimitri, he was sure he’d be able to hold him. “It’s all just so…”

“It’s alright Sylvain, you don’t need to say anything.” He still didn’t understand everything that his friend was feeling, but what he was certain of was that Sylvain felt utterly devastated.

And now the most important thing was to help him, nothing else mattered.

“But I can’t fight anymore!” That was a scream of defeat, of impotence. “Look at my body. It’s… I’m…”

Dimitri moved his eyes slowly, scanning Sylvain’s bare chest. Before the last battle at the plains, he barely had scars. It was no surprise, the cavalier was so skilled and he always fought with the utmost care so that his skin remained flawless, and luckily for him, he succeeded without fail. All that changed recently, that perfect alabaster skin was scratched, cut, bruised all over, and that was only his chest…

Still, the king could never comment, not even as a joke. He knew pretty well that while Sylvain’s beauty was not everything to him, it was a very important part of him. Dimitri would never want to make fun of his scars or his arm, he wasn’t that sort of person. “If you’re saying what I think you are, then I must tell you that you are incorrect. You are not ugly, Sylvain, not now, not ever.”

He hoped that those words would reach him, that they would resonate deep inside and make him believe that what he was saying was correct. Maybe, just maybe he would be okay.

“Heh. I wasn’t thinking of me in the least.” Could that be characteristic of him? Perhaps. Sylvain could be selfless whenever he wanted to, but was this one of those moments? “Dimitri, it still hasn’t hit you, right?”

What did that mean? Hit him? What did the king have to realize? “S-Sylvain? What are you--”

“I knew it.” For a moment, the coldness of the redhead’s skin felt absurdly hot, was he angry? “Why do you think we’re the only ones here? Why do you think Ashe is lying on the ground dead?”

Dimitri looked at his former friend, he was face down, not showing the mortal wound with which he’d been killed. But even so, even as he looked at the man on the ground, the king could still not tell what was going on.

“You stay silent because I am right. Dimitri…” Sylvain said, he rooted his feet on the ground and painfully turned around to see his friend. “Everybody is dead.”

The horrific thing of it all was that  _ Dimitri still didn’t understand.  _ “I know that, but what has--”

Then, the punch came. The king’s face only moved slightly to the side, while Sylvain’s entire body fell onto the ground in a loud and painful thud.

When Dimitri returned his face to its normal position, he spent a few seconds looking at the man on the ground before he helped him. “Sylvain, what was that for?”

He wasn’t expecting to see him crying once more. He looked so bad, with his face all wet and his nose bloodied. “Everyone is dead, Dimitri!” he said once more. His voice broke, showing all the anguish he had in himself. “And you don’t get it at all. Ingrid, Mercedes, Dedue, Annette… they’re all gone, it’s just the two of us now!”

It was hard looking at Sylvain like that. “I know, but we can’t lose hope! We can still get an army and—”

That was the last straw, what made the cavalier feel the most depressed. “You’re thinking about going back there…” now, Sylvain’s voice was but a whisper, it echoed with his sad face, it joined with all the pain shooting through his body. “And you never once thanked me for…”

Dimitri shook his head. “What are you saying? That we can’t defeat—”

He was interrupted one more time. “Of course we can’t beat Edelgard. Dimitri, don’t you see us right now? It’s only you and me, every single one of our friends is death if they’re not with the professor. Fhirdiad is lost by now and I am feeling worse each second. You still want to fight? Are you crazy?!” By now, Sylvain was screaming, though his whole body was tense and unmoving. “And the worst is… the worst thing…”

Even if he was being told everything, Dimitri still hadn’t realized the most important thing of it all. “Sylvain?”

_ “I love you.” _

Those three words resonated in his skull.

Dimitri remained still for a couple of moments, his eyes locked with Sylvain’s, which were still streaming tears down his cheeks. Maybe anyone else would have made that same sacrifice for him, but the meaning of Sylvain’s action was very different now.

The redhead turned his face, not wanting to wait anymore to accept that he had been rejected. “But I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. You never realized that, not when I—”

Before he could continue, Dimitri took a step closer to him, softly embracing him in his arms. “It does matter. You matter, Sylvain.”

The king moved a hand to turn his friend’s face. When they were just inches from one another, Dimitri pressed his face against Sylvain’s. The kiss was returned, and it was so soft that for a moment, both people's pain seemed to go away. It was so perfect and so ethereal.

They retreated after short moments. “Dimitri?” asked Sylvain, shocked about what just happened. He wasn’t expecting that to happen.

And if he was honest with himself, neither did Dimitri. “Was that wrong of me?” There was a slight smile on his confused face. 

He didn’t know if he shared the same feelings, at least not to the same extent yet, but he was sure that he felt a certain amount of affection for Sylvain. All those years he’d known him for meant something, especially the time during the war. But of course, he couldn’t say anything at the moment, voicing his confusion would only break his friend more than he already was, and Dimitri didn’t want to hurt him anymore.

Perhaps kissing him in his moment of absolute weakness and sadness was truly wrong of him, but the more the king thought about it, the more things started making more sense. Saving him, all the things he said, and the fact that he remained there with him. 

Sylvain was the one that needed to be there, the one that had to be there. If he still wanted to continue his fight, what good would that fight be if he didn’t have anybody by his side?

The cavalier shook his head. “N-no… I just didn’t expect you to do something like that.” Some small part of his usual self began coming back to him, which was good. “I kinda liked it, you’re not half bad, Dimitri,” he said with a smirk.

Though Sylvain didn’t press any further about the subject. He knew fully well that he had dropped that truth out of nowhere. Any person would be shocked after being told something like that, regardless of Dimitri kissing him.

But if he didn’t feel the same, Dimitri wouldn’t have kissed him like that at first. Nevertheless, he would wait until the king sorted his feelings. Whatever may come, he would have to accept. 

“I’m glad you think so. Sylvain, I am so sorry for taking you for granted. I thought that as long as I had you, I would be able to continue fighting without a single care, but now I realize that I’ve hurt you, and not only you. I’ve hurt countless people, and because of my actions… our friends are…”

Sylvain buried his face in Dimitri’s neck. “It's alright. Or… well, it’s not completely alright, but you’ve realized that now. I miss all of our friends, but we can’t change the past. We can only honor their memory by continuing to live.”

And by retaking the capital, by ending the Empire’s reign of terror. That much was true, but would the two of them be able to do that? “And I swear to them, and to everyone, we’ll make it, Sylvain.” Dimitri’s smile couldn’t die down despite it being just a small curve on his lips.

“Yeah, we’ll make it,” replied Sylvain.

“I’ll make sure of it. I promise you. I won’t ever let you go, Sylvain.”

The two of them embraced each other once more, and just like they had thought, everything was okay for just a tiny moment. Just their tiny, perfect moment of peace. Everything else could be sorted out later. The healing could start after this.


	3. Our future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the culmination of everything they have been doing. What decision will each of them take? Will they leave each other for their own convictions? Or will they make realizations along the way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much to everybody who read this whole fic. I am so proud of myself for doing this, and I am grateful to each and every one of you for reading this story.

“You really think flowers will bloom in this place? It’s so dirtied by blood, it actually looks brownish.”

“The rain will clear everything away, just like it has done.”

Sylvain was kneeling on the ground at the Tailtean plains, he turned his face to look at his friend. Dimitri’s gaze was fixed right in front of the various makeshift graves they put up together.

It was a sad scene, multiple gray clouds covered the sky, and water droplets were falling slowly. The two of them spent the past couple of days thinking of what to do, as their situation was not getting any better. Thankfully though, Sylvain was starting to get better, little by little. It was all due to Dimitri’s care of him. He’d been careful to wash each of his wounds and to make sure the redhead never strained himself.

But they still had to think of their future. Would they really fight back? Would they continue hiding until they no longer could?

Dimitri still wanted to fight. That thought had never left his mind. He still believed that if he could gather an army, he could take back Fhirdiad and drive the Empire back.

On the other end, Sylvain, while recovering more and more as the days passed, felt like that was an impossible dream now. He’d heard passing bards, people singing of the Empire’s contest, how a new day for Fódlan was already here, all thanks to the Empress and the newly established Archbishop.

It was all a big joke.

But it was also their reality.

So… what could be done?

Neither of the two had a good idea, or any at all. The immediate thing that Sylvain thought of was to build graves for his fallen friends, for everybody that died protecting their homeland. They thought of perhaps going somewhere else, but where could they go when the entirey of Fódlan would be looking for them?

There was a small chance that the world thought they were dead, maybe Edelgard had given that notice after being tired of looking for them, who knew.

What was certain was that they needed to take action sooner or later.

“You think all of them are looking after us?” asked Sylvain as he looked at the darkening sky. It gave him the chills, not because of the cold weather, but because the last time it rained in that place, they had lost everything.

Dimitri placed his hand on Sylvain’s knee, giving it a slight squeeze. “I’m sure of it. Dedue, Mercedes, Ingrid… all of them are.”

Things with Sylvain went slowly because the king still hadn’t completely sorted out his feelings. However, spending time with someone at their low was bound to tell you things about them, for Dimitri, it told him that Sylvain was one of the strongest people that he knew, and that he was a man driven by many things. The fact that he had stayed with him and did everything for him, and literally everything else, it was honorable. It was something Dimitri yearned for, to have someone as dependable by his side.

“I’m grateful for that.” Sylvain placed his hand above Dimitri, giving it a slight squeeze. “We should get going now, it’s about to start raining.”

Moving his hand towards the king’s shoulder, Sylvain helped himself up. It was a bit hard to move, but thankfully it was just the overall fatigue that still hadn’t left him. Most of his wounds had healed by now, and only his abdomen and arm needed care.

Thinking about not being held back by the pain or his wounds made Sylvain smile. It still hurt whenever he thought about his arm though, but little by little—and painfully, no doubt, he was coming to terms with what happened to him. He didn’t need to wallow in his despair, he’d come to learn, and he sure didn’t need any pity from anybody. 

That was what kept him going in the end. Sylvain was never the type of person to let anything bring him down. Yes, he developed some bad coping mechanisms and types of defense, but at the end of the day, the redhead was so much more than what he let on, more than what he was on the outside.

Dimitri and his friends were the only ones to ever see deep down that husk.

And now, Dimitri was the only one who could do it, the only one he could afford himself to be weak with--even though he hated it. But… if he was honest with himself, Sylvain liked that he could have a confidant like the king. Never in his life had he thought that Dimitri would ever become that kind of person to him.

With a slight, playful grunt, Dimitri stood upright as well. “We’ll eat the salmon I caught the other day, is that good?”

“Perfect,” replied Sylvain, yawning afterwards. “Y’know, weather like this is so good for napping, don’t you think?”

Dimitri smiled. Small moments like these became so important to him, so cherished. “I agree, but we can nap after we eat, alright? You have to make the rice while I cook the fish.” He chuckled afterwards.

Part of his helping Sylvain recover was having him help with some small tasks. Mostly because there was some stuff that Dimitri just couldn’t figure out; he was more experienced in battle—but he could never tell Sylvain. Still, helping out was making him a little more dexterous with his left hand, and it was making that sadness of him go away little by little. Dimitri always smiled whenever he thought he would have the good, old Sylvain back with him sooner and sooner.

The king outstretched his hand with another smile. “Shall we go?”

The cavalier took it without hesitation. “Always.”

They headed back through the forest. For once, it had lost all meaning of danger and fear. It was a normal forest, where they could watch small animals run about, where the sounds of the leaves rustling transported them to another, more peaceful reality.

Drops of rain started falling then, making for a new set of sounds inside the forest. It was almost like that horrible day now, it was just a few days ago, but it felt both real and surreal at the same time.

Everybody was gone, now only the two men remained, but they had found each other, and it was only then that the two realized that they needed one another. Weird how much their life needed to turn before they made the realization.

The two had thought about it. Was it good luck that everything happened? Was it bad luck? There was no way for them to know. They’d lost everything when they found something; that something would have never come out to light if they hadn’t lost anything… 

They missed their homeland, that was very true. Nevertheless, the two of them had very different notions of their homeland.

Dimitri still thought that they could win back everything, that it wasn’t the end.

Sylvain, on the other hand, hadn’t thought of battle ever since he got his injury.

And it was weird for the redhead. He’d known battle most of his life, just like Dimitri. He was very capable—he’d even begun doing slight training with his left arm, and while he still needed a lot of work, Sylvain was now able to defend himself to some extent.

Maybe it was the deaths of all his friends, or his injury. Perhaps it wasn’t anything related to that, but something had changed in Sylvain.

By the time they arrived back to the cabin it was pouring heavy rain. The pair ran inside, shutting the door behind them as they chuckled. “We made it in time,” said Dimitri, turning his head to watch the man beside him.

Sylvain was smiling just as the king did. “We did. I think I could’ve run,” he replied, though he almost didn’t believe himself when he spoke his answer.

Dimitri walked in front of him. “Are you sure about that?” he asked with a concerned face, though his tone was slightly happy.

Sylvain tried correcting his posture for Dimitri. “Yeah, or… well, I don’t know for sure. The only thing that hurts now is my abdomen and my arm.”

His bandages didn’t have any red splotches anywhere and that was a good thing. “This is good news, Sylvain!” said Dimitri. “That means you’ve healed up quite well.”

The redhead cupped the side of the king’s face. “And it’s all thanks to you.”

They locked lips.

It was a short, yet intimate moment between the two. The rain was making for a nice scenery, as well as relaxing sounds that echoed through the cabin. It was a sweet, silent tune to calm the nerves and ease the pain away.

Their hands interlocked with each other’s, it was something that they had been doing lately. Whenever one needed the other, their hands would find each other quickly. It was a special connection, of that, there was no doubt.

The kiss deepened afterwards. Dimitri pushed Sylvain onto the door, his hands went to the other man’s sides to keep him in place. Their bodies moved closer, they ground slowly and passion was starting to build up.

But it ended in a second.

Dimitri rested his head against the wall, part of his body weight was leaning against Sylvain, and both of them couldn’t help but sigh in disbelief.

It had been like that multiple times for a couple days now, either Dimitri felt like he was overstepping or didn’t feel ready, or Sylvain stopped things because he felt disgusted with himself.

The king looked at his friend, but didn’t say anything. “Sorry” just wasn’t cutting it anymore, and it had lost its meaning by now in that context.

Sylvain stood quiet as well. He felt a little angry at what happened, but he couldn’t help it at the same time. He knew fully well that Dimitri was not a shallow person, he didn’t care at all that Sylvain was wounded, but the cavalier felt weird every single time he had to uncover himself.

To say that he felt naked would be an exaggeration. He couldn’t explain his feelings, he couldn’t describe them either. It sucked how frustrating everything was. Sylvain wondered how much time would pass until he would feel confident again.

He gently pushed Dimitri away from him and then made his way to the bed, laying on it after removing his boots. “I don’t think I’m hungry anymore.”

That was the thing that Dimitri felt the worst about, that he wasn’t able to make Sylvain feel beautiful, that no matter what he did, there was still a stigma that hurt their relationship. He wanted so desperately to help him but he didn’t know how.

_ I healed his physical wounds, but how can I heal the emotional wounds that Sylvain has? _

Dimitri walked towards the bed too, laying next to Sylvain. Little by little, he was making his way closer, until he could place an arm around the other man. They remained silent one more time, but at least Sylvain was letting Dimitri get closer.

The king slid his other arm below the cavalier, and when he could, he pulled him closer to his body. Even after so many days, Sylvain still had that faint smell of his usual perfume, or perhaps it was part of his natural scent now, but it was something nice.

With a small sound of satisfaction, Dimitri placed a kiss on the back of Sylvain’s head. “Are you feeling sad?” he asked, but he already knew the answer. When no reply came, the blonde man snuggled closer to him. He whispered next to his ear, “Sylvain?”

“...yeah?” the redhead whispered back, and even with the low tone, his voice was still breaking a little.

“You make my heart warm.” It was the least he could do, voicing his feelings for the man so he could try and feel a little better.

Once more, there was no reply, but at least Sylvain quivered and chuckled a little. “You make me warm too.”

He turned on his side, so he could look straight at Dimitri. Gods, he was so handsome, he had always been. His hair was dishevelled, but it looked like a style on its own, and it smelled of the fresh breeze of the forest. His piercing blue eyes seemed like they could tell literally everything about him just by looking into them.

Inadvertently, Sylvain’s hands moved to Dimitri’s chest. He could feel the taut muscle under his shirt, the skin that while it had a few amount of scars, looked so tender and soft. He was radiating warmth off his body, which felt amazing against the growing cold that the rain was bringing into the cabin.

He craned his face upwards with a little smile. “I hope you’re not doing this just to get lucky. I’ll think I rubbed off on you a little.”

The two of them released hearty laughs, all while they were still holding each other.

“Would that be so bad? I think I need to let go a little, not be so uptight.”

“It wouldn’t be bad at all.” Sylvain winked at him. “I think you’ve done a great job lately. You’re not that stiff anymore.” He didn’t know how to say it with more tact, but that was true, Dimitri had softened up a little, and that was really nice.

Could the same be said for him? Was there any chance other than the depression that came to bring him down? Sylvain couldn’t know, but right then, he couldn’t worry about it.

Scooting closer, the redhead’s eyelids dropped a little, he was feeling so calm sleep was starting to make its way towards him.

“Is that so?” Dimitri said, leaning in for a soft peck on Sylvain’s lips. “I have to thank you for that, then.”

By then, they were almost right on top of each other, but Dimitri still needed to be closer. Maybe it had to be another type of connection—something he wasn’t sure of yet, but what he did at that moment was pull the redhead above himself. The two chuckled heartily. Moments like those would be etched in their hearts forever.

They looked at each other once more, only that Sylvain turned his gaze by burying his head on Dimitri’s shoulder. “I love and hate that you look at me like that.”

A look full of love.

“Hmm? Why’s that?” asked Dimitri as he stroked the back of Sylvain’s head. The king knew that his friend gave him the exact same looks, why did he hate them on his end?

“Uhh…” Sylvain knew that he was repeating himself over and over, but it was a feeling  _ that was ingrained in him _ , you couldn’t just forget that.

But thankfully, Dimitri knew how to cheer him up. He hadn’t tried it before due to the initial crisis, the absolute disgust that seemed to be his only personality trait lately. Now… he could afford to say something risky, something that seemed more characteristically of Sylvain than Dimitri. “I look at you like that because I think you’re really sexy.”

There was a small giggle, the kind a flustered kid would do. “You don’t even sound like yourself.” Sylvain raised his head, he had a big smile on his face. “But hearing that from you sounds really nice. I remember all the times other girls have said that to me and all of them pale in comparison to yours.” It was kind of a joke, but it was also the only truth.

Yeah… little by little, Sylvain was getting better, to the point where he was almost his old self now. 

Dimitri took care to place his friend next to him despite the softness of the bed. His smile couldn’t die down, and the chuckling was still going on. “I’m not feeling hungry anymore either. Do you want to just… stay here, together?” he whispered the last word for emphasis, to give it a more special meaning.

“Yeah, I would like that.”

* * *

The first thing Dimitri did when he woke up was stretch his body. The other side of the bed was cold, meaning Sylvain must have gotten up a long while ago. The king opened his eyes, the morning sun was shining brightly outside, but the tiny rays of sunlight didn’t hit his face this time, as he wasn’t sleeping on the floor.

He pressed a palm on his chest. Cold to the touch. The blankets were strewn on the floor, leaving him covered by nothing but his pants. Dimitri sat up groggily, rubbing his eyes as he got off from the bed. Sylvain wasn’t in the cabin anymore, nor were his clothes, which meant that he was outside.

Though he wasn’t in a hurry—they hadn’t suffered from any attacks in various days—Dimitri put on his shirt and boots quickly. He left the cabin, looking everywhere to see if Sylvain was around, but there was no sign of him.

At that moment, Dimitri felt a sting in his heart. He couldn’t have left, could he? There was no indication at all that Sylvain would just up and leave like that, so, where was he?

The king walked, maybe he could catch him in the forest. He didn’t care about leaving the cabin secured, nor that he left his weapon in it, he needed to find his friend right now.

But after a few more steps, he saw the man emerge from the forest. Dimitri’s heart calmed quickly, but he didn’t like the face Sylvain had. What had happened to him that he would have such a somber, grim face?

“Hey, I was hoping to wake up by your side,” said the king, he smiled at the cavalier as he made his way towards him.

“Dimitri…” replied the redhead, he welcomed the king in his arms for a few seconds, then, he pushed him softly. “We need to talk.”

“Oh?” That was unexpected. They talked a lot during the past days, every thought that crossed their minds was shared. “About what?”

Except for only one. “We need to think about what we’re going to do.”

The phrase was so unclear, and it may have not held any significance in it if it had been asked by anybody else. But that was it, for Dimitri and Sylvain, it was the culmination of being together for that long without a clear objective other than helping the cavalier heal, they were delaying the inevitable by not talking about the rest of their journey.

And deep down, it hurt the both of them, it created holes in their hearts, voids that made them feel so distraught and at the same time, distant with one another.

Because Dimitri still wanted to bring the fight to the Empire. Yes, its power now ruled over all Fódlan, but there was a sliver of hope in him that told him that maybe he could liberate the land.

But Sylvain was a very important part of the plan, and he could barely fight anymore. Yes, thanks to the goddess he escaped from death, but that wasn’t to say he was fully recovered. Wounds might have healed, but scars remained, both physically, and emotionally.

He didn’t want to fight anymore. Everybody was dead! Why couldn’t Dimitri understand that? What good was there to fight when he knew deep in his heart that every single one of his friends was dead?

Dimitri looked at him for a moment, trying to piece his thoughts before he finally asked, “What do you want to do?”

But the other man simply shook his head. “I know what I want, but I need to know  _ what you want. _ ”

The king released a quiet breath, he hesitated. “I want to… I want to fight for Fódlan.”

Before the two of them would share their feelings for each other, before life seemed to become a little brighter, Sylvain’s heart would’ve broken for the third time. Now, it only hurt a little. “And I want to leave Fódlan.”

“What?!” The word left Dimitri’s lips unconsciously loudly.

And for what seemed to be the first time in a lot of days, Sylvain stood upright, head held high. “Don’t you understand? There’s nothing left for us here!” He took some steps toward his love. “More guards are roaming these parts day by day, and I don’t want to wait for when they finally discover us.”

“But I can fight, just like I have done with the ones that came close. You and I—”

“You and I what, Dimitri?!” By then, Sylvain’s voice was just as loud. “I can’t fight like before! You’re telling me you want me to go sacrifice my life one more time for a war that has no meaning anymore? We might as well kill ourselves right now, going there would be suicide.”

Did he truly understand? Dimitri considered things before, even if only for a moment. Did the fight truly have no meaning anymore? Would it be okay to try and fight for Fódlan one more time, with no one by his side?

“Sylvain…” said Dimitri. He actively tried not looking at him out of shame. His hands were balled up into fists, his knuckles as white as the clouds above him. “It is true that you can’t fight as well as you did… and… we don’t have anybody who would stand with us.”

Perhaps there were still some people in the fallen Fhirdiad, but what if there weren’t? Would they risk their lives just to look for a few others?

Dimitri knew perfectly well that that would be suicide too. A useless mission that had no more purpose, not anymore.

Nevertheless, he wanted to hold on to that dream. It couldn’t be over, right?

“I’m trying my best to hide it, but you don’t know how much it hurts me that I’m unable to stand by you anymore, Dimitri.” Despite all his strength, Sylvain’s voice began breaking. “To know that I won’t be able to fight like I once did, to never be able to watch your back anymore!”

Little by little, Dimitri’s heart was the one that was breaking, for the first, and last time.

The king took the cavalier into his arms. “Sylvain… I’m truly sorry.”

It was at that moment that everything fully resonated within Dimitri. The anguish, the despair, everything that his love felt, he could feel now.

What good was it to fight when the only person by your side, the one you depended on, no longer could?

Dimitri could never blame Sylvain for what happened, nor would he ever make him feel like what he did was stupid. On the contrary, he was eternally grateful for saving his life, and no doubt that the redhead was happy to get another chance as well. He had to accept things, he had to move on. Dimitri needed to accept that that was an unwinnable fight, and that if he tried to do it, he would only end up paying the ultimate price.

Losing Sylvain.

He didn’t want that.

“I’m sorry for being like this, Sylvain. I’m sorry that I could never realize how you truly felt until now.” Dimitri felt utterly helpless, but not because he was unable to fight, he felt like that because he couldn’t see until now just how much he was hurting his friend. “But I promise you, I won’t ever try to do that again. I won’t fight when I know I can’t win, I will not sacrifice what’s important to me anymore.”

At that, Sylvain’s hands pressed on his chest. Tears were streaming now, and his uncontrollable sobbing wasn’t letting him speak coherent phrases. “I’m… Dimitri… you…” those were the blabbers that came from the cavalier’s mouth as he held onto the king.

“This place isn’t for us anymore, it seems.” Dimitri’s thumb cleaned the tears from Sylvain’s cheeks. “I couldn’t see it before, but it’s clear to me now. Fódlan is no place for us.”

“I’m so sorry.” It was barely a whisper, but the king heard it.

“Don’t be,” he replied with a smile. His other hand stroked his friend’s back. “I should be the one apologizing for hurting you like this.”

Sylvain looked at Dimitri with eyes wide open. “N-no! You didn’t—”

“I did, and there is no excuse for that. I can only express my deepest regret.” The king took one of the cavalier’s hands, and placed a chaste kiss on it. “I hope you can forgive me.”

It was so silly. “We’ve hurt each other enough, Dimitri.” Sylvain intertwined his fingers with his friend’s. “If things had been a little different, perhaps we could’ve won this fight, but…” he hugged Dimitri afterwards. “I know I don’t want to lose you.”

“Then, I agree with you.”

The redhead shot up once more. “A-are you serious?”

And with a smile, Dimitri replied, “Yes, Fódlan doesn’t have anything for us anymore. And we can honor the memory of our fallen friends by living for them, don’t you agree?”

Sylvain returned that smile. “Of course. I once told you that, huh?”

“Yes, you did. I thought that maybe we could honor them by taking back Fódlan, but even they would have agreed that it was a bad plan.”

The two of them chuckled. It felt like years since the last time they shared a laugh. “Maybe.”

They looked at the horizon, at the clearing opposite from the forest that now seemed to hold every possibility and newfound hope. Dimitri began walking, but Sylvain quickly stopped him. “Not yet, there’s one thing that needs to be done.”

“Hmm? What could that be?” He watched Sylvain enter the cabin for a few seconds and then outside holding Areadhbar. “Huh? What are you…?”

His question was answered the next moment when the cavalier ripped Dimitri’s cape, a piece of his own clothing, and tied them up around the lance’s handle before driving the weapon into the ground. “This is our new beginning. We died in Fódlan, but we can live somewhere else.”

Dimitri could only smile, holding his hand out for his other half. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Sylvain stepped ahead of the king, stretching his hand out to him. “Will you come with me?”

“Always, because I love you.”

“I love you too."


End file.
